This is my design [Cress]

[Terran]

.Terran.

I don’t have a home yet, technically. According to Beqanna standards anyways (and besides, what kind of standards are those?) but I did have a home at one point. Before the entire world was turned on its head. Horses are instinctual, herd-bound creatures, I know this, but being close to them in proximity has always been enough. The inner workings of kingdom drama … that seemed a tad excessive to me. What doesn’t seem excessive is the understanding the mare gives me in return for my casual bump. I’m always uncertain of others true intentions, so my reserved gaze searches her own for hints of falsehood as her laughter dies away. Brazen, this one, when her nose glides atop the few feathers nearest to her, “I’d have to disagree with you,” I counter, finding that I don’t mind the interaction.

Hers are foreboding, papery-like, and fantastic. I’m a huge fan. “So I suppose we can just call it a tie.” I offer, settling my own appendages tightly to my sides so that I can turn about to face her properly. “Terran.” I tell her, my bone-white head nodding softly, “You wouldn’t know how to use them, would you?” I question, nose jutting outward to indicate her own set. “I’m still very new to the practice and could use some tips.”

Tips. Ha.

I’m a riot.

I want to live, I want to give, I'm a miner for a heart of gold

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